


The Ritual

by Aequoria



Series: Zines and Events [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mythology, Filipino Mythology - Freeform, Folklore, M/M, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Philippine mythology, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-05 17:43:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21212561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aequoria/pseuds/Aequoria
Summary: Every month, the death god waits upon his mountain for his moon-boy to appear. Every month, the serpent rises from the deep to chase the moon across the sky.The game they play is nothing short of thrilling.





	The Ritual

**Author's Note:**

> My offering for FFXV Halloween Week 2019, for the Day 4 Prompt: International Folklore :D

The god of death waits at the top of his mountain. He is alone, but he is patient. Wind rushes through the trees of the sprawling jungle beneath him, and the night air is warm and pleasant. It is a cloudless sky.

Mount Madja-as rises higher than any other on the island, and it keeps Noctis far from the crowded cities that are too brightly-lit for his tastes. Most days, it is a lonely home, but on one night a month, it sets the scene for something spectacular.

The stars spin across the sky, their movements dictated by the hours and seasons. When the constellation _Torong_ reaches its highest point, his lover rises to meet him, and separates from his marked path across the glittering night sky.

They say the moon has no light of its own, but Noctis would disagree. Prompto is radiant in his own way, pale and perfect in the darkness. His skin reflects the stars themselves, his hair is luminous and beautiful. His smile is the glow that guides the fishermen in the dark waters, that leads the hatching turtles from the sand into the sea, that strikes arrows into the heart of death and brings him to joyful life.

Prompto stops in front of him and treats him to that brilliant smile. He is so close that Noctis could kiss him right now, but that is not how the story goes.

“He’s late,” Prompto says instead, frowning at the stars. “If _Torong_ is up, he should be out in full force.”

“He never misses a chance. He’ll come,” Noctis says confidently.

True enough, from the dark ocean bursts a torrent of water, and Prompto leans forward in excitement. The serpent hisses a greeting with the voice of fiercest storms.

It is a game they’ve played for centuries. The roles are set, though they’ve changed the rules for their own amusement.

Noctis, the god of death enamoured of the light;

Ardyn, the serpent of the sea gazing longingly at the heavens;

Prompto, the youngest of the seven moons, who yearned to stray from the path set before him.

Once upon a time, it may have been real. It has been so long that they have forgotten. Perhaps there had been a bloody fight for Prompto’s hand; perhaps they had always shared him. Nevertheless, they do their dance, slipping into the steps easier than breathing.

Prompto laughs when Ardyn chases him across the sky. He peeks tantalisingly through the clouds, so close but always out of reach. Ardyn leaps higher, strains to catch him, and his own wild and savage laughter fills the night with joy.

Noctis waits, and swoops in when they wander closer to the mountain. As always, he plays the part of the saviour. There is little that can challenge the god of death, but Ardyn knows how to make a fight interesting.

The serpent’s tail churns the waters like a boiling sea; Noctis spreads his arms and calls lightning to his fingertips. Ardyn roars with the might of raging storms; seafoam spills from his jaws open wide, his mouth dark and terrible like the deep trenches of his home. Noctis summons his weapons and creatures, the black birds and winged insects that swirl around their master, amassing into a fearsome army. He wields fate and death in his hands as old allies, and faces Ardyn with a smile like steel.

Tonight, death is victorious.

After the fight, Prompto bids goodbye to his other lover, and flies into Noctis’ arms. They crash into each other, giggling like they are young again. Noctis wraps himself around Prompto and breathes in the scent of starlight and night skies.

“Next month, Ardyn should win,” Prompto informs him. He tugs Noctis down so they lie on their backs, gazing up at Prompto’s sister stars and the emptiness where the bright moon should be. “I want to look at the reefs again.”

“Don’t run so fast, then.” Noctis presses a kiss into Prompto’s hair. “He’s an old man, you tire him out before we even get to the good bits.”

Prompto smacks his shoulder. “You’ve been spending too much time with mortals. You know it doesn’t work that way. Stop being mean.” Still, he laughs at poor Ardyn’s expense. He flashes a peace sign towards the sea, a gesture he must have picked up from one of the nights when he wanted neither of his lovers to win, when he would gaze benevolently down on the mortal cities and watch them live their short, fascinating lives.

Prompto rubs Noctis’ shoulder in apology, although he feels no pain. He traces his fingers up to his cheek, his hair, the golden rams horns curling from his head. In a swift movement, he rolls to be on top of Noctis, gracing him with that lovely smile before finally, _finally_ claiming his mouth.

Noctis closes his eyes and basks in the moonlight.

**Author's Note:**

> A few years ago, the love story of a death god and a moon boy began to circulate the Filipino communities online. Some websites said it was a pre-colonial tale originating from the islands of Visayas, others claimed it was from the Bicol regions. Websites and blogs kept citing each other as sources, and it was never really clear whether it was Visayan or Bicolano, or if it was even truly Filipino in the first place. Recently, people have been claiming it is in fact not a pre-colonial folk story at all, but a modern fiction born online.
> 
> Ancient or not, the story has captured the imaginations of Filipinos all over the world, inspiring gorgeous works of art and fiction. In the true spirit of oral tradition, the tale of Sidapa, Bulan, and the serpent Bakunawa has been passed from person to person, creating a myth as vibrant and beautiful as the old legends. I hope you enjoyed my small offering!


End file.
